


I've Had Enough

by ninata



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Bullying, Chapter 3 Spoilers, Child Abuse, Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, chapter 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm bored with hate and passion / I've had enough of trying to love. || There is no Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Only Ishida.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Had Enough

You promised you’d never forget him. But you were never good at keeping promises.

Soft, plodding noises. _Tap tap tap. Pick pick pick._ Fingers curl against each other, nail hitting soft flesh and peeling, picking, ripping away until raw skin peeks from behind the cuticles.

Flames flicker, pure energy licks your skin. Hair a brilliant white, eyes a brilliant red, the corners of your mouth curl up and you do not mourn the death of Kiyotaka Ishimaru. If one can say he was ever alive in the first place.

He was dead from the second he was born. He was dead when his father hit him, he was dead when he was shoved around at school, when he was bullied at school, when they stapled the sleeves of his jackets and filled his boots with worms and stuck dead rabbits in his shoe locker. He was dead when they called him names, he was dead when he smiled, he was dead the whole way through. Rotted from the core, blackened insides and moldy lungs and spores pouring out of his mouth.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is gone. That person, that horrible, disgusting person is no more. That’s the only comfort you have, that such a weak person doesn’t exist any longer.

_Tap tap tap._

He deserves to be dead. Thinking you deserve happiness is man’s greatest downfall. Thinking you can save anyone only leads to further despair.

He was in despair. But not you.

The weak boy that couldn’t save his ‘friends’ is gone. Or at the very least, you aren’t him. You could never be such an overwhelming disappointment. You could never be the boy who sat there and cried while _He_ was dragged off to His death, tied against a motorcycle, spun round and round while electricity crackled and He couldn’t even scream, so the boy screamed for Him. He screamed and screamed and cried and cried and did nothing.

You are full of life. You are His vessel, His spirit courses through your veins, His vitality keeps your fingers agile and your feet moving, tromping through the halls of Hope’s Peak.

If He was still around, you wonder how things would be different. Maybe you could have saved Him, but not that bastard Kiyotaka. That idiot couldn’t do a damn thing. You…certainly, you could have destroyed Monokuma, could have pulled Him away, could have broken down every obstacle, could have taken His place, could have died back then and let Him go free, just live a little longer—

_Tap tap tap. Pick pick pick._

This world is so bleak without Him. You wonder how the world ever had any color before Him. How Kiyotaka could have ever lived without Him. How any of the suffering could have ever been worth it without knowing He would bring you to salvation.

This is your salvation, really. Letting Him live on through you.

You feel at peace. Like He’s really here with you, with warm hands and crooked smiles and just, just…everything. Every bit of Him was so comforting, a person you could actually call a friend. For once in your life, you had a friend, and He was happy to be it. He smiled. He laughed with you, He talked with you, He called you brother. In a world that always hated you, He truly cared, and…

No, no. You’re not him. Not anymore. You’re not Kiyotaka, whose mind wove fantasies and played pretend and thought of such filthy things.

Kiyotaka couldn’t save Him. He did nothing. He couldn’t help Him, nor Fujisaki-kun. Their lives are over, they are dead, there is nothing Kiyotaka could do to change that fact.

No more warmth, no more smiles. All of that is gone. Kiyotaka was a fool to think that happiness could last. Because this world is cruel, and no one ever smiles, and your hands are cold and your cuticles are raw and stinging and God hates the sinners. Those sinful enough to stray from the path of God will be punished.

_Clench. Breathe. Pick pick pick. Drip drip drip._

You are Ishida. You will take responsibility for Kiyotaka’s shortcomings in the only way you know you can. The opportunity arose, and you can do what is necessary.

Methodical steps, up to the art room. Into the storage room.

You’re standing there, tears pricking at your eyes, because even when you aren’t him, you’re still weak. The weakness He so hated is all you’ve ever lived with. Too weak to save anyone, too weak to think for yourself…

You deserve this. This is the end you deserve.

Because you’re going to die here.

You’ve come to terms with it, because a person that can’t stand up for their friends and the body of a boy so imperfect and diseased doesn’t deserve life. Maybe it never deserved life. The hard look from father, the sickly mother who smiled blankly, the classmates with big white teeth that stretched from ear to ear and their sharp nails and long fingers and laughing, laughing laughing, always laughing, laughing at YOU.

Nobody ever loved you, and you’re okay with that. That’s all you deserved. You were never supposed to feel happiness, because you’re not anyone but Kiyotaka Ishimaru, you’re a fucking piece of goddamn shit that can’t fucking do anything, fucking disgraceful, fucking God awful shitstain, dishonorable and useless. Your whole life led up to this, the constant tests of strength, and what did you do? You sat there and took it, you took it all, you bore the burden of your family and you bore the burden of being a singularly disgusting thing and it was all for nothing. In the end, you’re nothing, you’re a fucking failure and it’s all your goddamn fault.

You don’t deserve to live. You let your best friend die. You didn’t do a goddamn thing. You’re so fucking disgusting, you’ve known it since you were a little kid. Nothing is fair, nothing is good, justice never prevails and the superhero dies in the end and you’ve felt so empty and lonely all your life. More than anything, more than any single thing you’ve hated yourself. You’ve hated yourself so much, every day, every second, despising living and wishing you were someone else. Someone better. Someone who could live up to your parents’ expectations, who could get along with people, who could smile truly and mean the nice words he says.

What did you do to deserve this? How badly did you wrong God? Why is this world so cruel? You never asked for much. You— you just wanted one friend. Just one. One person you could care about, who could, who could care about you. Just one goddamn person, just someone who actually likes you and doesn’t pity you. You’ve been alone for so long, playing by yourself and getting shoved into the mud and He was like a ray of light, a beautiful thing that made your heart beat, brought oxygen to your system, you didn’t want much, just someone to pat your head and tell you you didn’t have to work so hard anymore and that you were okay to live. That it was okay you were alive, that you were born, that you weren’t taking up space or that you weren’t unworthy of life.

_Drip drip drip._

You wipe your eyes on your wrist. Any minute now. You couldn’t even do it yourself, in the end. Too scared. Had to resort to someone else.

Maybe everyone will die in this place. Maybe this whole world will be consumed by despair, maybe everything will fail and hope will die like Mondo Oowada did, frying and dissolving until nothing remains.

You’ve had enough.

You’ve had enough of living, you’ve had enough of death, you’ve had enough of school, you’ve had enough of bullies, you’ve had enough of smiling, you’ve had enough of crying, you’ve had enough of maggots, you’ve had enough of darkness, you’ve had enough of pain, you’ve had enough of parents, you’ve had enough of blood, you’ve had enough of fog, you’ve had enough of loneliness, you’ve had enough of rain, you’ve had enough of butter, you’ve had enough of Monokuma, you’ve had enough of emptiness, you’ve had enough of love, you’ve had enough of hate. You’re absolutely exhausted with this world, with Kiyotaka Ishimaru, with a world without Him, because you

because you

because you _loved_ Him, you loved Him so much. You fucking loved Him, didn’t you? You loved Him, you—

The hammer makes contact, the pain is blinding. Before you know what’s going on, you hit the floor face first. You can hear heavy breaths, your fingers extend and clutch at the ground and there’s a sound like metal scraping against metal, you squeeze your eyes shut and everything is dark and—

_You promised you’d never forget Him. But you were never good at keeping promises._


End file.
